Oh my God, you guys, I have had an incredible couple of days. I have many good and exciting things to tell you.
First of all, I met with part of Jack's team at school for our pre-IEP/goal creating meeting yesterday. It was phenomenal. I walked out of that place feeling high. I was all prepared to argue why I thought Jack needs a peer buddy system, a la MOM-NOS. I walked in with my stack of papers and my charts of goals and looked at the papers they had prepared, and right there on top was a peer buddy system.
They looked at my list of goals and took it with them to add to their goals. They looked at my suggestions on the goals they'd already written and happily added in all my suggestions. The speech therapist and school counselor had just been to an autism seminar the day before and were all excited to help Jack.
When I handed them the My Friend With Autism coloring book I'd photocopied with a suggestion to give it to his classmates, their only question was, "Can we really keep this?" When I suggested that we have some peer education about autism for the other first graders, their only question was, "Would you like us to do it when Jack is there or when he's out of the room?" When I expressed my concern about Jack not knowing any of the other kids' names and being isolated in his classroom, they gave me their ideas to piggyback on my suggestions.
Even though many of my goal suggestions were social, not once did any of them say, "But what does this have to do with his academic success?" They never once suggested that because he is above grade level that he doesn't need the support he gets. They asked me if I wanted him in ESY (extended school year, special ed style) and agreed when I said I did.
It was incredible. Jack and I are lucky people to have this team. They really seem to care about him, from his aides all the way up to the principal who saw me in the hall and called me into his office because, "I haven't seen you for a while and I wanted to know how things are going."
Do I sound excited? I am. It was an amazing hour.
Then, as if that weren't enough, today I attended the first day of a three-day conference I'm attending called Diamonds in the Rough about "smart kids who learn differently."
Today was just the pre-conference, so I attended two three-hour sessions. They were both fantastic, but the first one completely blew my mind. Jonathan Mooney spoke about neurodiversity to a small group of about 30 people. I honestly can't remember the last time someone inspired me so much. And not in a gooey, faithy type of way, but in a hope, hope, HOPE! type of way.
I go to a fair number of these autism/special education events and, I gotta tell you, I often leave them feeling bummed out. The system is broken, or at least badly damaged, and while it is vital to learn that, it is depressing.
I left Mooney's lecture in happy tears. Yeah, I'm the idiot who burst out in tears after Mooney's rousing closing words, which included these three very important words for us to impart to our children: "YOU'RE NOT BROKEN."
I may or may not have told the lady next to me (through sobby tears, mind you), "I have a six-year-old with autism and he's perfect!"
I am such a dipshit.
I have a tremendous number of things rolling around in my head that I want to write about concerning that lecture, as well as the rest of the conference, past and yet-to-come. I'll probably end up writing about it over at Autism Unexpected, but will try to remember to link to it from here.
I know this is kind of a brain dump post, but there is just so much Happy and Hope and Good in my brain right now that I wanted to share it with you. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll soon be full of ennui again and be able to blog about ridiculous things that tiny animals do.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
How to Make a Cake, Stimey Style
Alternatively titled: "You Know Those Recipe Posts With Pretty Photos of Food Being Prepared Interspersed Throughout the Post? This Isn't That Post."
It was my friend ALW's birthday last week and she and her kids were coming over for a playdate so I decided to throw her a mini-birthday party. Naturally that means I had to bake her a cake.
Oh, wait. That's not the right picture. Yeah. Here's the picture of the cake *I* made.
Don't judge me yet. (Yet.) There are reasons for why it looks that way. Of course, the biggest reason is that I fucking suck as a cook, but there are other very real reasons.
For instance, it turns out that I only have one layer cake pan, which means that I had a couple of options. I could have made one layer, then made the other, but that seemed like a whole lot of extra work and, if you know me, you may guess that this is not the route I took. Instead I baked one layer in a cake pan and the other layer in a pie pan. What could go wrong with that plan, I asked myself.
I reiterate:
Yeah.
Actually, the pie plate layer didn't turn out too badly. It didn't come out of the plate too well, but it was mostly okay. Definitely salvageable.
The real problem was with the cake that came out of the cake pan. It looked kind of like the picture above, except it came out of the pan in about three pieces. I put them all together and placed it on a wire rack to cool. When I came back later, this is what I found:
I was pretty sure who the culprit was, so I found Alex and asked him exactly what the hell he was thinking. So he said, "Well, it already looked sort of nibbled at and weird, so I thought it was okay to eat it."
My response, of course, was, "So, not only did you eat a big ol' chunk of my cake, but you told me it looked like crap as well?
Later, ALW told me she thought this was hysterical. I was all, "Who does that? Who sees an obviously in-progress cake and assumes it's okay to just eat it?" And she responded with, "Every single man I know."
But since I still had to make this cake and there was no way I was going to make another cake, with potentially more disastrous results, I forged ahead with the frosting. Layer one went well. But then when I put the second layer on it, there was something left to be desired.
Whatever. I can disguise that, right?
No.
Okay then. So how about if I put a little more frosting on it and then let Quinn put some green sprinkles on it?
Hmmmm. Okay, well, now we're done with the chocolate frosting. Mostly because then Quinn did this:
And then he did this:
At this point, there was no point in holding Quinn back, so I let him go crazy with sprinkles and then let him put the candles where ever he wanted to.
You've seen the final result, so I won't torture you with any more closeups of the cake. Instead I'll give you a wide view.
Quinn also picked out the Christmas wrapping paper for the gift.
I'm not generally a person who gives my friends gifts for their birthdays because then there's the whole thing about they feel obligated to reciprocate with gifts for my birthday (which is in June by the way... oh, I kid) and I don't want that. But every once in a while, I happen across something that is SO perfect for someone that I just can't help myself.
ALW is a knitter, and she occasionally sends me to knitting blogs for me to look at cool things. Recently she sent me to French Press Knits for me to look at some slippers (you can see them in the FPK header), which she later made and gave to me, and they are AWESOME! (Thanks, ALW!!!!!) But while I was there, I saw a knitter's rule that caught my eye.
I immediately contacted the maker of said knitter's rule, KaratStix, and within two days, she had custom decorated ALW a rule of her very own and sent it to me.
Adorable, huh?
ALW loved it. AND the cake was delicious too. Sam snuck into the kitchen after ALW and her kids left and ate all the extra crumbs off the plates.
That pretty much encapsulates "Stimey Style." It may not always go as planned, and it often doesn't look good, but it usually turns out okay. And sometimes even great.
It was my friend ALW's birthday last week and she and her kids were coming over for a playdate so I decided to throw her a mini-birthday party. Naturally that means I had to bake her a cake.
Oh, wait. That's not the right picture. Yeah. Here's the picture of the cake *I* made.
Don't judge me yet. (Yet.) There are reasons for why it looks that way. Of course, the biggest reason is that I fucking suck as a cook, but there are other very real reasons.
For instance, it turns out that I only have one layer cake pan, which means that I had a couple of options. I could have made one layer, then made the other, but that seemed like a whole lot of extra work and, if you know me, you may guess that this is not the route I took. Instead I baked one layer in a cake pan and the other layer in a pie pan. What could go wrong with that plan, I asked myself.
I reiterate:
Yeah.
Actually, the pie plate layer didn't turn out too badly. It didn't come out of the plate too well, but it was mostly okay. Definitely salvageable.
The real problem was with the cake that came out of the cake pan. It looked kind of like the picture above, except it came out of the pan in about three pieces. I put them all together and placed it on a wire rack to cool. When I came back later, this is what I found:
I was pretty sure who the culprit was, so I found Alex and asked him exactly what the hell he was thinking. So he said, "Well, it already looked sort of nibbled at and weird, so I thought it was okay to eat it."
My response, of course, was, "So, not only did you eat a big ol' chunk of my cake, but you told me it looked like crap as well?
Later, ALW told me she thought this was hysterical. I was all, "Who does that? Who sees an obviously in-progress cake and assumes it's okay to just eat it?" And she responded with, "Every single man I know."
But since I still had to make this cake and there was no way I was going to make another cake, with potentially more disastrous results, I forged ahead with the frosting. Layer one went well. But then when I put the second layer on it, there was something left to be desired.
Whatever. I can disguise that, right?
No.Okay then. So how about if I put a little more frosting on it and then let Quinn put some green sprinkles on it?
Hmmmm. Okay, well, now we're done with the chocolate frosting. Mostly because then Quinn did this:
And then he did this:
At this point, there was no point in holding Quinn back, so I let him go crazy with sprinkles and then let him put the candles where ever he wanted to.
You've seen the final result, so I won't torture you with any more closeups of the cake. Instead I'll give you a wide view.
Quinn also picked out the Christmas wrapping paper for the gift.I'm not generally a person who gives my friends gifts for their birthdays because then there's the whole thing about they feel obligated to reciprocate with gifts for my birthday (which is in June by the way... oh, I kid) and I don't want that. But every once in a while, I happen across something that is SO perfect for someone that I just can't help myself.
ALW is a knitter, and she occasionally sends me to knitting blogs for me to look at cool things. Recently she sent me to French Press Knits for me to look at some slippers (you can see them in the FPK header), which she later made and gave to me, and they are AWESOME! (Thanks, ALW!!!!!) But while I was there, I saw a knitter's rule that caught my eye.
I immediately contacted the maker of said knitter's rule, KaratStix, and within two days, she had custom decorated ALW a rule of her very own and sent it to me.
Adorable, huh?ALW loved it. AND the cake was delicious too. Sam snuck into the kitchen after ALW and her kids left and ate all the extra crumbs off the plates.
That pretty much encapsulates "Stimey Style." It may not always go as planned, and it often doesn't look good, but it usually turns out okay. And sometimes even great.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
My Autism Ottoman
I teased you yesterday by telling you that I was going to blog today about cake, haircuts or gerbils. I mean my ottoman. I counted up who mentioned what in the comments and it turns out that you want to hear about my ottoman. There was some interest in hearing me blog about cake, so you may—if you're really, really nice to me—hear about that tomorrow. But no one cares about haircuts apparently.
So I guess you'll never hear the story behind this:
But I guess the photo pretty much says it all.
So, the ottoman. I guess I'm not blogging so much about the ottoman, which looks like this...
Aren't you glad you chose this topic?
...as about what is stored inside of it. That is what I am about to show you. Bear with me here.
Do you want to know what autism looks like? What it really, really looks like?
(Yes, Stimey, we do. We think it looks like Jack.)
Nope. It looks like this:
And this:
And this:
Autism looks like stacks and stacks of paper. It looks like reports, evaluations, IEPs, drafts and corrections, folders full of printed out emails from the school, invoices, information about therapies, fliers about events, and did I mention the books on the subject?
I'm a pretty organized girl about Jack's autism information, but when I started looking at the folders I needed to put in order before Jack's upcoming IEP, which is in a week and a half, I realized that I hadn't filed anything for months.
Yikes.
I spent an entire afternoon last week hunkered down on my floor with a three-hole punch, a Sharpie, and my folders. It is shocking how many trees were destroyed by just the little paper circles that I punched out of the papers themselves.
But if you want services and you don't want to flail for specific papers when you walk into a meeting with the school and if you want to have notes about things that might help your kid?
Well, you kill the motherfucking trees.
Now all those piles of paper are filed away in their correct folders and the folders are stowed away carefully in their autism ottoman.
Unfortunately, Jack is going to have to stop being autistic like, now, because there is not any spare room in that ottoman.
Also unfortunately, now that everything is organized, I now have to comb through it all to do everything I can to make sure that Jack gets the very best IEP possible.
In an amazing display of "making an effort to work together," Jack's case manager and speech therapist at the school are meeting with me this week—a week before his IEP meeting—so that we can create his goals together. Which means that when I walk into the meeting and they hand me a stack of reports, I will have seen at least some of them beforehand and I will have helped to create some of them.
It's so cool and so cooperative I almost think it's a trick.
That's also what autism looks like: mistrust of the system. Why else do we keep all the emails?
But I really think that Jack's team wants what is best for him. And I am so appreciative that they are including me in the whole process. But before that, I have to put together my thoughts and my ideas so I don't get flustered and confused by the language of the IEP goal, which always leaves me feeling fuzzy in the head. I have some thinking ahead of me in the next couple of weeks.
So that's the ottoman story. (It was kind of about an ottoman, right?)
So I guess you'll never hear the story behind this:
But I guess the photo pretty much says it all.So, the ottoman. I guess I'm not blogging so much about the ottoman, which looks like this...
Aren't you glad you chose this topic?...as about what is stored inside of it. That is what I am about to show you. Bear with me here.
Do you want to know what autism looks like? What it really, really looks like?
(Yes, Stimey, we do. We think it looks like Jack.)
Nope. It looks like this:
And this:
And this:
Autism looks like stacks and stacks of paper. It looks like reports, evaluations, IEPs, drafts and corrections, folders full of printed out emails from the school, invoices, information about therapies, fliers about events, and did I mention the books on the subject?
I'm a pretty organized girl about Jack's autism information, but when I started looking at the folders I needed to put in order before Jack's upcoming IEP, which is in a week and a half, I realized that I hadn't filed anything for months.
Yikes.
I spent an entire afternoon last week hunkered down on my floor with a three-hole punch, a Sharpie, and my folders. It is shocking how many trees were destroyed by just the little paper circles that I punched out of the papers themselves.
But if you want services and you don't want to flail for specific papers when you walk into a meeting with the school and if you want to have notes about things that might help your kid?
Well, you kill the motherfucking trees.
Now all those piles of paper are filed away in their correct folders and the folders are stowed away carefully in their autism ottoman.
Unfortunately, Jack is going to have to stop being autistic like, now, because there is not any spare room in that ottoman.
Also unfortunately, now that everything is organized, I now have to comb through it all to do everything I can to make sure that Jack gets the very best IEP possible.
In an amazing display of "making an effort to work together," Jack's case manager and speech therapist at the school are meeting with me this week—a week before his IEP meeting—so that we can create his goals together. Which means that when I walk into the meeting and they hand me a stack of reports, I will have seen at least some of them beforehand and I will have helped to create some of them.
It's so cool and so cooperative I almost think it's a trick.
That's also what autism looks like: mistrust of the system. Why else do we keep all the emails?
But I really think that Jack's team wants what is best for him. And I am so appreciative that they are including me in the whole process. But before that, I have to put together my thoughts and my ideas so I don't get flustered and confused by the language of the IEP goal, which always leaves me feeling fuzzy in the head. I have some thinking ahead of me in the next couple of weeks.
So that's the ottoman story. (It was kind of about an ottoman, right?)
SITS Down, I Have a Lot of Links Here.
**You may not be interested in this post if you are not a blogger not a local blogger not a local blogger who went to the SITS conference not me. You are excused. Come back tomorrow. I will probably be blogging about cake. Or haircuts. Or my ottoman. Or something equally delightful.**
I went to a little blogging conference in Baltimore yesterday. It was put on by the SITS girls and was a lot of fun. I was lucky enough to catch a ride with Teach Mama, who is so nice and smart and fun and whose blog is must-read material for anyone with young kids. It was great to be able to chat with her all the way up and back on I-95. New DC Metro Moms blogger Minky Moo also rode with us. She's very cool too, and it was nice to get to know her.
I wanted to go to this conference because I figured it would be a good way to meet some local-ish bloggers, and I was right. I met some wonderful women there, including some whose blogs I read and really wanted to meet, like Sunday and Jennifer. Plus there is always the benefit of meeting new people who I didn't know before, many of whom are already in my tweetstream. (Mel stands out because she is just so goddamn adorable. Really.)
I had some nice conversations with Mindy, Mommy Kennedy, Tara, Madeleine, Kiran, Shelley, Catherine, Kirsten (who has great hair), Parenting BY Dummies, Scrappin Michele, Kristen, and a bunch more. Sorry if I didn't link to you. I got tired. It was a long day. I did really enjoy meeting each of you.
The thing I think the SITS girls do best is make their conferences low pressure and easy. Everyone had assigned tables for each of the panels and for lunch, so there is no standing around not knowing who to talk to, plus you get to meet a few new people every time you switch a table. It really helps attendees who don't know anyone, plus it gets people who do know people out of their comfort zone to meet new folks.
I liked every one of the speakers, although the focus was a little bit more on branding and PR than I do on my blogs. Nonetheless, even if it's not something I do, it was fascinating to hear Resourceful Mommy and Tiffany talk about what they do with PR people. I'm putting that information in my file-this-away-until-I-have-more-than-four-consecutive-minutes-to-do-anything brainspace.
Scary Mommy is beautiful and not at all scary, as was her co-speaker Mama Kat (who was a little scary when she threw FTC magnets at my table, but I forgive her because she seems to be terribly funny). Justice Fergie, one of the MamaLaw/Blogalicious ladies, spoke about the FTC regulations that affect bloggers, which was one of the most informative sessions of the day. She is in a position to really, really know what's up, so it was fantastic to hear the real deal straight from thehorse's Justice's mouth.
The person who gave me the most information applicable to my blog, was Tara from Feels Like Home, who spoke about SEO (search engine optimization). I tend to ignore a lot of that, but it's nice to have some scribbled notes to remind me of what I should be doing. Although I think I am already probably the highest ranking search result for "autistic gerbils" out there. And if I wasn't before, I am now. And if any of my three boys ever wants a homemade tutu, now I know where to go: straight to Tara's blog, where her tutu tutorial has evidently gotten 28,000 hits. Shazam!
In related news, I was finally around a group of people who understood (and even coveted) my twitter nameplate necklace:
This is an old photo. And HELLO, Stimey's eyebrows. Damn.
It was a good day, altogether. Many thanks to Alex, who not only took care of the three munchkins all day, but also cleaned the entire house. He's a rock star. Don't forget to come back tomorrow. You know you want to hear about my ottoman. (You think I'm kidding, right? Prepare to be disappointed.)
I went to a little blogging conference in Baltimore yesterday. It was put on by the SITS girls and was a lot of fun. I was lucky enough to catch a ride with Teach Mama, who is so nice and smart and fun and whose blog is must-read material for anyone with young kids. It was great to be able to chat with her all the way up and back on I-95. New DC Metro Moms blogger Minky Moo also rode with us. She's very cool too, and it was nice to get to know her.I wanted to go to this conference because I figured it would be a good way to meet some local-ish bloggers, and I was right. I met some wonderful women there, including some whose blogs I read and really wanted to meet, like Sunday and Jennifer. Plus there is always the benefit of meeting new people who I didn't know before, many of whom are already in my tweetstream. (Mel stands out because she is just so goddamn adorable. Really.)
I had some nice conversations with Mindy, Mommy Kennedy, Tara, Madeleine, Kiran, Shelley, Catherine, Kirsten (who has great hair), Parenting BY Dummies, Scrappin Michele, Kristen, and a bunch more. Sorry if I didn't link to you. I got tired. It was a long day. I did really enjoy meeting each of you.
The thing I think the SITS girls do best is make their conferences low pressure and easy. Everyone had assigned tables for each of the panels and for lunch, so there is no standing around not knowing who to talk to, plus you get to meet a few new people every time you switch a table. It really helps attendees who don't know anyone, plus it gets people who do know people out of their comfort zone to meet new folks.
I liked every one of the speakers, although the focus was a little bit more on branding and PR than I do on my blogs. Nonetheless, even if it's not something I do, it was fascinating to hear Resourceful Mommy and Tiffany talk about what they do with PR people. I'm putting that information in my file-this-away-until-I-have-more-than-four-consecutive-minutes-to-do-anything brainspace.
Scary Mommy is beautiful and not at all scary, as was her co-speaker Mama Kat (who was a little scary when she threw FTC magnets at my table, but I forgive her because she seems to be terribly funny). Justice Fergie, one of the MamaLaw/Blogalicious ladies, spoke about the FTC regulations that affect bloggers, which was one of the most informative sessions of the day. She is in a position to really, really know what's up, so it was fantastic to hear the real deal straight from the
The person who gave me the most information applicable to my blog, was Tara from Feels Like Home, who spoke about SEO (search engine optimization). I tend to ignore a lot of that, but it's nice to have some scribbled notes to remind me of what I should be doing. Although I think I am already probably the highest ranking search result for "autistic gerbils" out there. And if I wasn't before, I am now. And if any of my three boys ever wants a homemade tutu, now I know where to go: straight to Tara's blog, where her tutu tutorial has evidently gotten 28,000 hits. Shazam!
In related news, I was finally around a group of people who understood (and even coveted) my twitter nameplate necklace:
This is an old photo. And HELLO, Stimey's eyebrows. Damn.It was a good day, altogether. Many thanks to Alex, who not only took care of the three munchkins all day, but also cleaned the entire house. He's a rock star. Don't forget to come back tomorrow. You know you want to hear about my ottoman. (You think I'm kidding, right? Prepare to be disappointed.)
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Quinn the Muse
A while back I reviewed a kids' magazine called Tessy and Tab. The newest issue came in the mail today. It was about drawing with sidewalk chalk. And I noticed a little something on Tab.
See any similarities between Tab the kangaroo and Quinn?
That's right. The amazing people at Tessy and Tab gave one of their characters a soccer shirt in honor of Quinn. How cool are they? They had told me they were going to do it, but I didn't tell Quinn.
He was extremely pleased.
This is especially significant if you know the whole back story of Quinn and his two-year refusal to wear anything but a yellow shirt, preferably one that featured a soccer ball.
Disclosure: The Tessy and Tab people gave me a free subscription.
See any similarities between Tab the kangaroo and Quinn?
That's right. The amazing people at Tessy and Tab gave one of their characters a soccer shirt in honor of Quinn. How cool are they? They had told me they were going to do it, but I didn't tell Quinn.
He was extremely pleased.
This is especially significant if you know the whole back story of Quinn and his two-year refusal to wear anything but a yellow shirt, preferably one that featured a soccer ball.
Disclosure: The Tessy and Tab people gave me a free subscription.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Germy Food Made With Lots of Love
Yesterday was the annual "I Love You Lunch" for Quinn's preschool class. Generally this lunch comes closer to Valentine's Day, but what with Snowmageddon and all, it was postponed. This lunch is, in fact, the whole reason for the field trip to the grocery store. Theoretically the kids buy the ingredients for the lunch they make, although this year the teacher ran off to get the stuff while the kids went on the tour.
The I Love You Lunch is really fun. The kids make lasagna for us (hence "germy food"—I always wonder how many times it's been sneezed on). They also perform some love-themed songs while 30 relatives watch, grin, and take photos.
All of the parents and grandparents were there in the room waiting for the kids, who filed in with their little heart headbands on, and trust me, a cuter sight you will not see. So they're all standing there waiting for the teacher to lead them in their first song and there is a silence as all the kids survey the parents.
Then Quinn, because he evidently has no self esteem issues, pipes up with, "Everybody loves me."
They then proceeded to sing, complete with some very sophisticated dance moves.
Of course, our gourmet lunch followed, complete with the spilling of the entire cup of apple juice onto mommy (Quinn) and the one taste of lasagna followed by an involuntary gag (Quinn) and the eating of one carrot slice and two cookies (Quinn) and the involuntary swelling of the heart (me).
I'm in love.
The I Love You Lunch is really fun. The kids make lasagna for us (hence "germy food"—I always wonder how many times it's been sneezed on). They also perform some love-themed songs while 30 relatives watch, grin, and take photos.
All of the parents and grandparents were there in the room waiting for the kids, who filed in with their little heart headbands on, and trust me, a cuter sight you will not see. So they're all standing there waiting for the teacher to lead them in their first song and there is a silence as all the kids survey the parents.
Then Quinn, because he evidently has no self esteem issues, pipes up with, "Everybody loves me."
They then proceeded to sing, complete with some very sophisticated dance moves.
Of course, our gourmet lunch followed, complete with the spilling of the entire cup of apple juice onto mommy (Quinn) and the one taste of lasagna followed by an involuntary gag (Quinn) and the eating of one carrot slice and two cookies (Quinn) and the involuntary swelling of the heart (me).
I'm in love.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
I'm All Over the Internet, But a Mention in an Honest-to-God Print Newspaper Gives Me Chills
It looks just like any other Washington Times page, doesn't it?
But wait! Upon closer study you may notice that my byline is there. In an ad. In a major newspaper. That's right. I'm being advertised right under a giant map of the United States. In fact, my little square is bigger than the map of the United States. I think that means something.
That's not Jack, by the way.
But wait! Upon closer study you may notice that my byline is there. In an ad. In a major newspaper. That's right. I'm being advertised right under a giant map of the United States. In fact, my little square is bigger than the map of the United States. I think that means something.
That's not Jack, by the way.Have you checked out my Autism Unexpected column in the Washington Times Communities? (There are some other really incredible writers there too.)
Also, it looks like it's going to get warmer here over the weekend.
Also, it looks like it's going to get warmer here over the weekend.
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